


Nuptial Flight Risk

by Edgelord (lostlikeme)



Category: Deadpool (Movieverse), Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man/Deadpool - Joe Kelly (Comics)
Genre: Awkward Sexual Situations, Comedy, Fluff and Smut, Fuck Or Die, M/M, Magical Healing Cock, Smut, Threesome, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-07
Updated: 2018-06-07
Packaged: 2019-05-19 12:46:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14874017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostlikeme/pseuds/Edgelord
Summary: An attack from The Meninist renders Miles incapacitated. Deadpool and Spider-Man help him through the aftereffects.





	Nuptial Flight Risk

When Miles finally regains consciousness he’s sweating through his suit, and his idol is neck-deep in an argument with a mercenary over his non-existent purity. People have been going rabid since someone tampered with the annual vaccination schedule and added a modified hormonal cocktail into the mix. The complete list of ingredients has not yet been made public, and Miles was supposed to change that. Instead, he’s bound to a wall in Deadpool’s apartment, skin on fire beneath black spandex. 

“He’s your clone,” Deadpool insists. “Shouldn’t you be the one to fuck him?”

The two of them are standing in front of Miles, next to the television they pulled away from the peeling wallpaper to make room for his body. There’s a pyramid of beer cans on the only visible table, sandwiched between a tattered armchair and a mountain of styrofoam takeout containers.

“He’s not my clone.” Spider-Man says, fingers curling into fists. “And no one’s going to fuck him!”

Deadpool’s gaze skates to Miles, as if he can sense his eyes have opened beneath the mask. What’s left of his costume is barely threaded together over his brown skin.

“Well I don’t think his asshole is going to fuck itself.” He pauses for a moment, tilting his head. His lips quirk. “I know you guys are flexible, but unless there’s something you haven’t told me -”

“Now is really not the time for jokes,” Spider-Man snaps. “We still haven’t found a cure and if we don’t act soon he’s going to end up dead.”

“I dunno...” Deadpool lays his gun on top of the beer can pile, where it wobbles precariously. “Aren’t you supposed to be the good guy?”

“We are good guys,” Spider-Man says, but his voice splinters. “And that’s why I’m asking for your help.” His lungs expel a gust of air as he brings his fingers to the bridge of his nose. “I can’t do it.”

“What makes you think I can?” Deadpool hisses. When the pause stretches for too long, Deadpool sucks his teeth. “Oh, I get it.” He steps toward Spider-Man, but he doesn’t back up. “Just because I’m a degenerate you think I don’t have any qualms about fucking a little kid?”

“I’m not a little kid.”

Spider-Man’s head swivels to Miles, limbs pinned to the wall in thick strings of webbing. His arms are completely numb from being held above his head, but the fuzzy discomfort doesn’t have anything on the throbbing pain in his dick.

“Sorry,” Spider-Man rubs the nape of his neck, warm to the tips of his ears. “We didn’t know you were up.” Deadpool smiles and mouths the words, I did, but Miles can’t read his lips behind the mask. “How old are you, exactly?”

Miles glances between the two of them, choosing his words carefully. “I’m graduating soon.”

“Excuse me, a hot piece of college jailbait who probably can’t buy a pack of condoms without crying or getting carded.”

“Uh…” Miles inhales a deep breath. “Can you stop talking about me like I’m not right here?” His chest rises and falls with the adrenaline coursing through his blood. He turns to Spider-Man, trying to keep his voice calm. “Why does it have to be him?”

“Cause I’m the bigger dick, sweet cheeks.”

“What?”

“The positions during the consummating act are unfortunately specific,” Spider-Man explains. “It’s based on the size of your…”

He trails off, gesturing vaguely with his hands. He can’t bring himself to say it out loud, and Deadpool doesn’t bother helping. What else could be expected from a crook who recorded his entire manifesto on 4chan?

“Seriously?” Miles is torn between anger and disbelief. “What kind of RedPill bullshit is that?”

“That’s what I said!” Deadpool shakes his head. “But you know how it is. He wants to see us shed our humanity and show the world we ain’t nothin’ but mammals, doin’ it like they do on the Discovery channel.” He gyrates his hips and waves his wrist. “That kind of thing.”

Spider-Man nods. “Incels can’t get any, so they’re ruining sex for everyone else.”

Nobody speaks, and the silence that ensues is as suffocating as a wet blanket. A mouse crawls out from between the fridge, notices the mounting tension, and takes off running with a piece of old lo mein.

“What do you want me to say?” Miles stares at the ceiling. “I’m not gay. I didn’t ask for this.” His voice drops lower. “I didn’t even want these stupid powers.”

Deadpool thinks it’s a shame, because he’d make a great twink judging by his muscle tone and the fat outline of his cock resting against his thigh.

“And I’m not a pedophile, yet here we are.”

Spider-Man elbows him in the ribs, hard. “Dude, you’re freaking him out.”

Miles furrows his brow. “I’m not freaking out.”

“Good, cause I am.” Deadpool is pacing in a horizontal line, grinding his heels into the ground with each step. He throws his hands into the air. “How can we be sure this isn’t an alternative universe in some fangirl’s twisted wet dream?”

“We don’t have the time to figure that out. From the time you’re infected, you have less than...what, an hour before it falls off?”

“Use it or lose it!” Deadpool exclaims. “Or in this case, let someone else use it.”

The thought of having an actual body part fall off - a penis, no less - is the least comforting image to cross Spider-Man’s mind in weeks. Deadpool is more or less unfazed. It’s not like it would be the first time.

“How do you know - how do I know you’re right?”

“We don’t know for sure,” Spider-Man admits, embarrassed. “But we already tested the hypothesis once.”

Miles is skeptical, but he knows Spider-Man wouldn’t be suggesting it if there was another way out. Besides, the longer they put it off, the further away the The Meninist is going to get. 

“And why can’t he fuck a kid his own age?”

Miles grimaces as the muscles in his legs spasm. “Just how long do you think the line is for hot girls who want to fuck me?”

“Touche.” 

Spider-Man has always been his hero - an unshakable symbol of what little good is left in humanity. Deadpool is the embodiment of the complete opposite. 

“Quick question, sweetheart. Have you ever done drugs?”

“No!” Spider-Man is personally affronted by the mere suggestion. “Of course he hasn’t done any drugs.”

Miles tries not to sound sheepish. “What kind?”

Spider-Man turns. “Have you?”

“Spidey, everyone’s doing drugs. There’s a war against them.” 

“No,” Miles confesses. His mother’s voice echoes in the recesses of his mind. “I don’t do drugs.”

“Damn, because I was gonna say this is kind of like smoking pot, if smoking pot made you want to fuck a hole into the couch.”

“One of the ingredients is the same chemical used to stimulate arousal in baboons.” Spider-Man wrings his hands together. “It looks like he altered it so it binds to receptors in humans, creating an - ”

“An uncontrollable desire to get freaky with it!”

“And the dying part?” Miles asks, trying to ignore the thundering pulse between his legs.

“That’s not original content either,” Spider-Man says, moving around the small space as he talks. “In many hive-like insects, think bees, or ants - the male plays an important but disposal role. They’re called drones, and they serve pretty much one purpose - ”

“DTF,” Deadpool says knowingly. “Always being down to fuck.”

“Fertilizing the queen’s eggs,” Spider-Man continues, as if he didn’t hear a word Deadpool said. “After the nuptial flight, a chemical enzyme is released that signals the onset of death.”

“You’re not even telling the good part,” Deadpool interjects. “When they separate, she runs off with his dick! That’s why you should always sign a prenup.” 

“That’s one way of saying it. Another way of saying it is that his abdomen tears open when the endophallus is removed.”

“Is that supposed to be better?”

“I guess what they say is true.” Deadpool inclines his head. “Life ain’t nothing but a fat vagina.”

“Nobody says that,” Spider-Man snaps.

“Kendrick Lamar says that, and he’s the rapper of our generation.”

They’re both right, in a way. Miles says nothing, doing his best not to dwell on the casual, almost intimate nature of their bickering. 

“So he’s just ripping off bug biology?”

“Kind of, but reversed. He subscribes to the idea that among society there are similar phenotypes - alphas, betas, and women who should be subjugated. He seems to be using gender - or more specifically, genitalia, as a way to reinforce a stricter social hierarchy.” 

“So now if you don’t have sexual intercourse, your dick falls off and leaves a gaping hole.” 

“Then why do I have to be the one - I mean, how did - who fucked you?”

“No one,” Deadpool says without missing a beat. “Not that you can blame them when I look like this.” He motions to himself, as if Miles can see his skin through the bright red suit. “I’ve lost it a couple times now.” He gestures to his crotch. “Damn thing just keeps growing back.”

“Superhuman healing factor,” Spider-Man supplies.

Deadpool clenches his fists. “See, this is what happens when we let any little white boy with money have access to gene splicing technology.”

“Speaking of white boys with technology,” Spider-Man says, jerking his phone back into his suit. “We have forty minutes left. The enzyme is going to continue to build up in your system unless the receptors bind to actual sex hormones.”

“Okay,” Miles concedes. “Let’s just get this over with.” 

“Time to get this party started,” Deadpool says, jaw tight. He approaches Miles and hovers before making a move. “I’m gonna touch you now sweetheart.”

Deadpool cups him and Miles swallows the gasp that tries to escape. “Don’t call me that.”

“You got it, dude.” Miles flinches when he grinds their crotches together. “Any other triggers I should know about?”

He’s itching to move, but he stills when Deadpool finally wrenches his cock from his pants and slaps it against the meat of his palm. He curls his fingers around it before stroking it base to tip. Soft, it isn’t any bigger than his own. 

“Hey small fry, my eyes are up here.”

Deadpool teases his finger along the hem of Miles’ mask and his entire body tenses up. He braces himself for the unavoidable reveal but Deadpool only lifts it enough to mouth along his neck. It’s hard to tell if the smell of cheap booze is coming from Deadpool or the room. 

“Don’t touch the suit,” Miles says. “Just leave it on.”

“The whole thing?” Deadpool asks darkly. He squeezes Miles through his costume for the second time. “You’re killin’ me, little man.”

Miles regrets the decision as soon as Deadpool tears through the crotch of his costume with his bare hands. Intellectually, Miles knows he’s safe, but the concept is relative. His biology on the other hand, has shifted into second gear. When Deadpool grips Miles gently in his hand, the shock finally dissolves under the miasma of fear. He scrunches his eyes shut under the mask.

“Relax, kid. What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.” He leans forward so he can reach his ear. “In this metaphor, my apartment is Vegas.”

He wants to shove his tongue inside, bite the cartilage, and grab him from behind, but it’s hard to tell if following through on those impulses is going to make things better, or worse. Deadpool drops to his knees in front Miles instead, sliding his hands over his hips then around his thighs. He leans his cheek against the flesh peaking through his costume and Miles jumps, legs buckling before relaxing in the restraints.

“Calm your tits.” Deadpool noses at his erection. “Getting your dick sucked doesn’t magically make you gay. Right Spidey?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t call it magic.”

“Although blowjobs are the gateway drug to anal sex,” Deadpool says, lifting the bottom of his mask. “Once you pop you can’t stop.”

When Miles’ shoulders start to shake, Deadpool softens and pulls back. He touches his knees and looks up at him from his spot on the floor. Spider-Man inches closer, trying to assess the situation with the wrong half of his brain. 

“Shit. Don’t cry. We don’t have to do this, SHIELD can probably cryogenically freeze your body and bring you back when we discover the cure.”

“I’m not crying,” Miles gripes, on the verge of laughing from sheer hysteria. “I wanna move my legs.” 

“Of course,” Spider-Man says, crawling up the wall to apply the solvent as fast as he can. “Done.”

The moment the webs dissolve Miles pulls his legs free, planting a foot on either side of Deadpool’s neck. His toes curl against his shoulders when Deadpool sucks him to the root. Miles fills out in the sleeve of his throat, already shamefully close to blowing his load. Spider-Man turns to watch them when Deadpool pulls back to pop something out of his utility belt. 

“Conveniently placed lube trope,” Deadpool grins. “I love it.”

“Wade,” Spider-Man says. “It doesn’t count if you’re the one who conveniently placed the lube there.”

“Or does it?”

The blood rushes to his hands when he can finally lower his arms, climbing around Deadpool and pushing his cock down his throat. To his credit, Deadpool keeps balance, cradling Miles’ ass in his calloused hands while he sucks him off. Miles cringes at the cool feeling of Deadpool’s slick finger, but he’s too close to coming to care. Deadpool pushes the tip inside and licks the length of his cock before pulling off with a wet pop.

“Turn-ons?” 

“You shutting the hell up,” Miles grunts, nudging his wet lips with the head of his cock.

Spider-Man lifts up his mask to smiles at Miles. 

“Hey, what a coincidence, that’s one of mine too.”

Deadpool wiggles his finger, pushing it deep before curling his knuckle, easy and practiced. Miles grits his teeth at the resulting jolt of pleasure, digging his nails into Deadpool’s scalp. He almost loses balance when Deadpool swallows around him and jabs his prostate, squirming a second finger alongside the first. He pistons his fingers until the precise motion wrenches a strained noise from his throat.

“Upsie-daisie.” 

Deadpool’s biceps bulge as he stands with Miles in his arms, knuckle deep inside him. He flattens Miles against the wall and fingers him until he’s breathless and squirming. Miles winces when he tries to add another.

“Be gentle,” Spider-Man says from beside them.

“I’m always gentle, Spidey!” 

Deadpool rolls his shoulders, hiking Miles’ legs even further up, until his knees are digging into the wall. He licks him taint to cock, but before he can tongue his ass Miles curls his fingers around the hem of Deadpool’s mask, in a silent threat to pull it off.

“I don’t -” Miles cuts himself off, deliberating. “Don’t do that.”

“That’s where you’re drawing the line?” Deadpool says, perplexed. “It’s twenty-eighteen, even straight people are eating ass.” 

Spider-Man crosses his arms and Deadpool lowers Miles to his waistline, one arm holding him up. Miles braces the rest of his weight against the wall, trying to keep distance between them. Deadpool brings their foreheads together, lips twisted into a smile.

“But it’s your party and you can cry if you want to.” 

Miles shivers, dwarfed by Deadpool in every sense of the word. He jerks Miles off leisurely, just enough to keep him interested.

“Spidey, do me a solid and get some more lube in here.” His eyes bug at the mere suggestion. “What are you so freaked out about? You look like I just asked you to fuck your brother.” Deadpool groans. “Don’t tell me…”

“We’re not related!”

Spider-Man grabs the lube off the edge of the windowsill, staring at where Deadpool’s two digits are stuffed inside Miles. His cock is twitching, leaking against his curled stomach. Spider-Man brushes his calf until it meets his thigh, following the graph of tendons underneath his skin. The plastic bottle makes an obscene noise when he squeezes it. Heated by his thigh, the lube drips over Deadpool’s wiggling fingers, making it easy to work inside him.

“You’re so good, so fucking tight.” Deadpool licks his lips. “Tell him how good he’s doing Spidey.”

“Uh,” Spider-Man fumbles, burning all over. “You’re doing great, honestly. The first time he did that to me I screamed like a girl.”

“Whoops.” Deadpool hooks a finger in his pants, staring down at his flaccid dick. “I swear, this never happens.”

“Great,” Miles says dryly. “I’m about to die because you can’t get it up.”

“Sorry my dick isn’t doing cartwheels at the prospect of turning up on To Catch a Predator.” He turns around to catch Spider-Man’s attention. “Webs, I could use your help about now.”

“What do you want me to do?” Spider-Man asks, pitch climbing higher and higher. 

“You know what a train is, right?” Spider-Man stares while he wiggles his ass. “All aboard. Koo koo kachoo.”

“Now you need him to fuck you?” Miles flexes his fists and shakes his head. “This is too gay. You’re lucky my masculinity isn’t fragile.”

“This isn’t even in the upper echelon of gay,” says Deadpool. “And that’s pansexual erasure, I’ll have you know.”

When Spider-Man touches him, Deadpool’s hips jerk, and he grinds his pelvis into Miles. Spider-Man is shorter but more serious, radiating intensity when his hand slips over Deadpool’s shoulder, smoothing it’s way down his rib cage until it touches Miles’ ankle. He presses forward, sandwiching Miles between Deadpool and the wall. 

“Thank god,” Deadpool says. He can feel Spider-Man breathing life back into Deadpool’s libido, cock fleshing out against his own. “I was afraid I’d never get hard and we’d be stuck in this terrible limbo forever.”

“I don’t actually need the play-by-play.”

Miles already has front row seats to the show. He sees Deadpool’s cock jump for the first time, slowly rising to full attention as Spider-Man moves his arm behind him. He rolls his hips and Deadpool’s breath hitches.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

Deadpool’s voice squeaks. “It never came up?” 

“That’s the story you’re sticking to?”

“You’re kind of raw dogging my prostate right now so forgive me if I can’t think straight.”

“When has thinking ever gotten you anywhere?” Spider-Man says coldly. “Just focus on what I’m telling you to do.” Spider-Man feeds his cock in and out of Wade. “See? He’s basically harmless.”

“Have no fear, your friendly neighborhood Deadpool is here.” His voice is strained. “Let’s go, squirt. Put your arms around me.”

“No way,” Miles says, teeth locked together. “I got it.”

“I’ll hold you up.”

“I said got it.”

Miles holds his own weight, fingers spread as he rests his arms against the wall behind him. Spider-Man traces circles around his ankle while Deadpool fiddles with his belt enough to push his pants down to his thighs.

“Don’t look down,” Deadpool says.

His eyes widen and rocket directly to Deadpool’s dick. It’s curved against the muscles in his stomach, leaking against his skin. Now that Spider-Man is inside him his erection is unwavering. Miles curls into himself without ever moving. A bead of sweat slides down his temple and his throat closes up at the sight. 

“I told you not to look down!” Deadpool grimaces. “I’m a grower, not a shower.”

“Everything is gonna be okay,” says Spider-Man, even though he’s a little worried about the size difference too. “Trust me.”

The room seems smaller after the words leave his mouth, like the air is congested with emotions. There’s only one way out, they all know that much. The blinds rattle as Deadpool shifts his weight and grabs the side of the windowsill for leverage. 

“Quiz time!” Deadpool bites his lip, staring at his bare cock between Miles’ spread legs. “Somebody tell me, what’s wrong with this picture?” 

“Uh…” Miles falters. “I’ve got a list a mile long. Are you sure you want me to answer that?”

“No condom!” Deadpool sucks air through his teeth. “You gotta wrap it before you tap it!” 

Spider-Man drops a hand on Deadpool’s shoulder so he can pull him back and grind his cock deep inside him. 

“You’re telling me you have multiple flavors of lube in that suit but not a condom?”

Deadpool groans and Spider-Man continues knocking into his prostate until his cock is oozing precum into his palm. 

“Of course I carry condoms, Spidey.” Deadpool mocks. “I was just testing you. Don’t either of you care about safe sex?”

“Before this, I wasn’t having any.”

“No shit?” Deadpool tries to shake off the sick pooling in his stomach. “I couldn’t even tell you were a virgin. You took my fingers like a champ.” 

“Yeah,” Spider-Man agrees awkwardly. “You’re doing great.”

The praise makes his face hot. At home, he’s used to complaints and being scolded over school. This is something else altogether. Deadpool moves against Miles, grinding their dicks together.

“Doesn’t the healing factor mean, that like - ”

“Yup. No STDs for this anti-hero.” Deadpool grins. “But something told me you don’t want to shit this out later.”

“Thanks,” Miles manages. “I don’t.”

Deadpool rolls a pink condom over his cock and lines himself up at the cleft of his ass. Miles shudders when the latex touches his skin. Spider-Man and Miles are thinking the same thing. Pink, really? That has to be on purpose. 

“You’re doing awesome, baby.”

“Not your baby.”

“You got me there.” Deadpool squeezes their cocks together, noting how he’s only a little bigger than Miles at full attention. “It was actually kind of a close call.” He inches forward, stroking himself lazily. “You’re a big boy, aren’t you?”

Deadpool squirts more lube over his dick before sliding home, pushing the head against Miles’ puckered hole. He pushes his fingers in ahead of his cock, quickly stretching him one last time.

“You’re so fucking soft inside,” Deadpool growls, spreading his digits. “Got that tight little body all ready for me.”

He pushes past the first ring of muscle with slow, tightly wound control. Miles tightens up around him, feeling thoroughly skewered, pinned in place by the dick shoving its way inside him. Deadpool’s palms around his hips are sweaty, cradling Miles in a vice-like grip. Spider-Man watches with rapt attention, nearly forgetting to breathe.

“Don’t move until he says,” Spider-Man commands. It’s the first time Miles has heard him use that tone. “You listening, Wade?”

Deadpool freezes like a dog wearing a shock collar, cock crammed halfway inside him. He squeezes more lube at the juncture where they’re connected, stroking it over himself and struggling to stay still. 

“No problem,” Deadpool grinds out. “I’m good, I’m ready. Fuck.” He swallows the lump in his throat and lays an unsteady hand on Miles’ chest. “We got all night for you to relax. Take a deep breath.”

“We actually have about fifteen minutes.”

Miles tightens around the intrusion instead, and his cock jumps, beading precum at the tip. His lips form words twice over before he can find the effort to speak. He rushes to lift his mask. 

“Hurry up,” Miles rasps.

Deadpool tilts his pelvis and slides his cock the rest of the way inside him in one fluid motion. Miles grunts at the sharp stick of pain, and his grip against the wall falters. Deadpool catches him and Miles wraps his arms around his neck without thinking. From this angle, he can see Spider-Man right over Deadpool’s shoulder, keeping a steady pace as he fucks him.

“How are you?”

“So good, baby boy.” Deadpool murmurs, mesmerized at the sight of his cock sliding between the hole he tore in the spandex. “Look at him,” he says in awe. “Look at Lil Spidey take it.”

“Not you,” Spider-Man snaps. He slips his hand over Deadpool’s until it reaches Miles’ hip. The movement crushes Deadpool even harder against him. “Hanging in there buddy?”

“I can’t breathe,” Miles says, gripping the hem of his mask stubbornly. “But I’m good.”

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” Deadpool offers. “Though you’re probably not going to like what’s underneath, unless you’ve always had a fantasy about fucking an old pepperoni pizza.”

Miles presses his lips together. Deadpool’s weird skin condition is the least of his worries. They all know something more important is at stake.

“You too, baby boy. I promise I won’t peek. Scout’s honor.” Deadpool is practically giddy. “Okay, I get it. I’m not exactly a Boy Scout. But it’s the Bro Code we’re talking about here.”

Tearing it over his head is a breath of fresh air. An uncomfortable wave of vulnerability threatens to swallow him until Deadpool yanks his off, too. 

“No turning around,” Spider-Man says, pinching Deadpool’s ass. “Got it?”

“Yes sir, Spidey, sir!”

Somehow, of all of the things, Miles didn’t expect Spider-Man’s hair. He stares at him for a moment too long, tingling all the way to the tips of his toes. Deadpool nuzzles Miles’ chest before arching his back, hand twisting around Spider-Man’s wrist to tug him closer. 

“Hey,” Spider-Man says, face red. “You ready for the rest of it?”

Miles jerks his chin down and Deadpool snaps his hips, sheathing his cock inside him. Miles grunts, grinding his teeth together in an effort to swallow the pain. Deadpool pulls out halfway and coats himself with more lube before spreading Miles with this thumbs. He thrusts back inside, smoother and slicker. When he rolls his hips Miles tightens his arms around Deadpool’s neck.

“Is he okay?”

“Look at him -” Deadpool says breathlessly. “He takes dick like a certifiable pro.”

“Jesus, Wade.”

“I know, I know, you’re probably wondering how someone gets certified as a professional dick-taker, and how exactly important it is to list that certification when applying for your next job, but where I come from, that’s a compliment.”

Spider-Man rolls his eyes and slaps Deadpool’s ass. He tightens at the sensation, hips stalling as pleasure spikes in his gut. 

“Wade, for everyone’s sake. Shut up.”

Deadpool hunches over Miles for a better angle, trying to concentrate despite Spidey nailing him from behind with perfect aim. He pumps Miles’ cock when their skin slaps together, faster and faster as his breathing hitches, momentum climbing to match his energy.

“What, you asked me to fuck him but I can’t make jokes about it?” Deadpool can barely stomach the hypocrisy. “To answer your question, he’s about to bust a nut any second, if that heart rate is anything to go off.”

Time slows down, and Miles ejaculates like a bottle rocket, shooting ropes of thick cum across his chest. The trail smears across Deadpool when their chests slide together, and Spider-Man groans as orgasm approaches. Deadpool’s hips stutter to a halt and his cock spasms, instantly emptying inside the condom, gripping hard onto Spider-Man’s spent dick while Miles contracts around him.

“Yeah, I know what you’re thinking.” Deadpool says, facing an invisible camera and talking not to anyone in particular. “They’re never going to let me back in the Avengers now.”

For a moment, no one moves. Even the cockroach scurrying across the splintering wood floors freezes. It’s too quiet for the time of night and the part of the city.

“I just wanna say, as a team, I think we did a great job.” No one responds and Deadpool charges ahead. “So, just wondering...do you go by the same name? Aren't you more of a...Spider-Youth? Bite-Size Spidey?”

The building trembles before Deadpool can finish his sentence, dropping a piece of sheetrock into his eye. Miles carefully disentangles himself from around Deadpool and dusts off his shoulders. The building rattles a second time, and a shrill voice shrieks into a megaphone until the sound waves shatter the windows.

“What’s worse than a chauvinistic pig?”

“Just to check - is everyone hearing that voice, or is it just me?”

Miles winces when the deafening voice returns. “We all hear it - unfortunately.”

“A woman who won’t do as she’s told!”

The three of them reach for their masks at the same time. Deadpool purposely slips on the wrong one. Spider-Man doesn’t bother to stifle his sigh. 

“If he was a slug, I’d salt him.” His head snaps back to get a second look at Miles, at the cum dripping down his thigh. “Just as soon as we get you a new suit.”


End file.
